


Tip of the Tongue

by Frecles



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Food, Hatake Kakashi is a Troll, Humor, Like an Unhealthy Amount of Food, Not Canon Compliant, Petty Sakura, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frecles/pseuds/Frecles
Summary: When Sakura's quiet night at the library was interrupted by the feeling of alcohol spilling past her lips she was doubly annoyed. Annoyed because the salad waiting in her apartment didn't seem nearly as inviting anymore. Annoyed because she no longer had a taste for romance.A KakaSaku Soulmate AU.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 127





	1. Salt and Shochu

For Sakura taste had always been an indulgence. As a shinobi, a kunoichi who knew how to wield her body as a weapon no less, that’s all it was.

On missions she was often forced to survive on nothing but soldier pills, dry rations and the occasional fish – unboned, unseasoned and cooked roughly over a fire. When she wasn’t on duty, she followed a steady diet, carefully balancing each meal to maintain her energy levels without much consideration for flavour. The only luxuries she allowed herself were the sweet teas she sipped on her balcony every morning.

Sometimes her friends would successfully coax her into a meal at a restaurant. Ramen, barbeque and those dainty little cakes they served at diplomatic banquets were infrequent treats that she enjoyed more for the company than the break in her usual vegetarian fare.

Afterwards she had to redouble her efforts in her training to burn through any excess calories the spreads had left her with. The cravings these nights uncovered were even harder to shake, making her walk home through Konoha’s food district seem infinitely more difficult. Taste, Sakura decided, was far more trouble than it was worth.

In her experience, love was the same.

Anyone could see that Sakura adored the comrades she had found in the Konoha Eleven. She took every opportunity to shower them in her unique brand of affection: quiet healing sessions in her home, gentle words of advice and frequent sudden outbursts of violence. In return she was blessed with teasing nicknames, warm hugs and the recognition she had craved when she was the weakest member of Team Seven.

However, Sakura continued to dodge romance like the small dango stand she swore up and down she had outgrown. She refused any offers of blind dates, ducked any compliments that seemed too friendly and deftly turned the attention of her more persistent suitors towards Ino. While the blonde remained steadfast in her attempts to find her friend a partner, she would hardly be found complaining about the last particular tactic.

The night Sasuke had left the village, Sakura had awoken to more than a cold park bench. Her desperate attempt at convincing him to stay circling her mind lifted whatever strange genjutsu she’d been under and Sakura realised just how much of herself she had been willing to give away for the boy she loved.

Indeed, long before any traitorous thoughts had entered his mind she had already started to change, deliberately shaping herself into the girl she thought he wanted. But he had never wanted her. The realisation had been harsh, cutting to the bone faster than the chill lingering in the fall air.

It had taken the ten intervening years, full of hard work and her discovery of medical ninjutsu, but Sakura had uncovered who she was underneath the blanket of long hair and cloud of perfume. She liked who she saw – a woman, strong and beautiful and smart – and had absolutely no intention of letting her go. Not for an extravagant meal or a pretty face.

So, when she first recognised the burn of shochu slowly spilling past her lips, she found herself doubly annoyed. Annoyed because the crisp salad waiting in her empty apartment wasn’t nearly as inviting as the image of a hearty meal in a crowded bar that the slowly dissipating warmth of the drink had conjured in her mind. Annoyed because a soulmate wasn’t an indulgence she was interested in anymore.

The phantom sensation was the first sign that Sakura had soulmate that she didn’t know, and emphatically didn’t want, bound to her through her sense of taste. She groaned. She was permanently, cosmically bound to - presumably - some idiot who was out wasting his Tuesday night drinking while she was busy poring through heavy tomes of medical research.

Concentration thoroughly broken, Sakura slammed her book shut and pondered how in the Hidden Villages she was supposed to take this annoyance out on a stranger who could be anywhere in the world. This line of thinking continued as she packed away the pile of scrolls that had somehow accumulated on the table in front of her, following her into the foyer of the library.

Perhaps it was how uncomfortably close they were to the public restrooms, or maybe it was the way that their glass panels glinted malevolently like light bouncing off Kabuto’s glasses as he slid them further up his nose, but Sakura felt like she was truly seeing the vending machines for the first time. Their hulking figures had always seemed ugly and out of place in the library, but tonight they looked downright evil. They looked like retribution.

Righteous anger at the interruption of her quiet evening guided her hands as she aggressively ordered the greasiest, cheapest looking package she could see. Well, as aggressively as any petite, pink haired woman can order a bag of chips that feature a cartoon man earnestly asking if she was ‘feeling the crunch’. Tearing through the nonsensical speech bubble Sakura bit into her first chip, savouring her first serve of revenge.

Any thoughts of how unpleasant the bitter aftertaste that resulted from mixing the obscenely salty snack with the phantom liquor were quickly squashed as the trickle of shochu on her tongue abruptly stopped.

Sakura took a sick pleasure in imaging her partner’s disgust, their confusion at the turn in their drink. Like her they would be unprepared for the sudden sensation, but Sakura hoped that the alcohol they were consuming had dulled their senses enough to shrug it off. After all she was a genjutsu type and relished in drawing out this kind of game.

She continued her walk pausing every now and again to take the smallest nibbles of chip she could manage. The warm stream of alcohol never completely stopped, but each time it slowed, became more cautious, she fancied that victory tasted an awful lot like chemically constructed chicken.

She bided her time, the darkened streets of Konoha emboldening her new villainous personality. She deliberately led her prey into a false sense of security, fighting to keep her rising panic buried beneath the familiar layers of fury until she got home.

Having a soulmate wasn’t what she had imagined as a child. It wasn’t romantic or sweet or comforting. It was as invasive as the Yamanaka mind technique and like in battle with her friend, she was beginning to feel uncomfortably out of control as her body tried to respond to the effects of the alcohol that wasn’t really there. This time her second spirit wouldn’t be enough to boot out the intruder in her mind. This was her new normal.

Reaching her front door, she pushed such depressing thoughts to the back of her mind. As long as she was stuck with this unfortunate cosmic entanglement she might as well try to enjoy it. Or get revenge or whatever. Her time had almost come, all she had to do was wait for a pause in her companion’s rhythm that signalled a particularly large mouthful was soon to follow. _There!_

With a ferocity usually reserved for battle Sakura grabbed as many chips as she could fit in her dainty fist at once, unhinged her jaw and savagely bit down.

She nearly choked on her laughter as she felt the tingling warmth of alcohol as It surged against the back of her teeth, her cheeks, the inside of her lips as her unsuspecting soulmate spat out their drink. Whoever they may be, she hoped they received her message loud and clear.

_Nice to meet you, asshole._

Her game over she made her way into the kitchen, opening the fridge that held her dinner. The wilted leaves of her salad stared pathetically back at her. She pushed down her cravings for a rich bowl of ramen that would have paired so nicely with the quality shochu that had stopped teasing her senses. And then a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Evidently, her soulmate hadn’t learned their lesson. They were drinking again.

She slammed the door of her fried and moved to her cupboard instead, which was filled to the brim with food made to last longer than any mission the Hokage could dream up. These packages were there mostly for emergencies and rivalled any snack that could be found in a vending machine. She scanned the bland packages for anything that looked like it could ruin a good bottle of sake. Whoever it was had no idea who they were dealing with.

And if Sakura had her way, they would never find out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good artists borrow, great artists steal and the best artists write Naruto fan fiction and give credit to those who inspired them to do so, so if you are enjoying this fic, please consider checking out Soldier Pills and Chocolate Ice Cream by hyperenui, the main inspiration behind this fic.
> 
> Also, this is basically one big ol' love letter to TipsyRaconteur and all of the amazing KakaSaku writers whose works have been the only thing keeping me sane during the last few weeks!


	2. Sake and Scotch

A lone fly travelled lazy circles around the group of jonin celebrating the success of their latest mission. It had been uneventful, not exactly worthy of their talents, but shinobi learned from an early age that any mission could be their last. So, they relished every opportunity to spend their A-rank commission toasting anything and everything they could think of.

They raised their glasses to the simplicity of the mission, the continued peace of the village, the new detergent that seemed to magically remove blood from flak jackets. The laughter poured as freely as the alcohol; most patrons eager to soak up both. But even within the jovial atmosphere the elite ninja knew that they were never truly far from danger.

To any onlooker Kakashi appeared to be lost in thought. Shoulders slumped, wrists limp, lone eye glazed, he appeared completely oblivious to the presence of the merriment around him. Automatically his cup met his lips to the increasingly silly calls but even his closest friends would be concerned at his lack of amusement as he toasted to ‘the best kunai polish’- a painfully pornographic double entendre perfectly suited to the famed pervert’s sense of humour. Only the bartender with a clear view of his face could see the calculation carefully hidden beneath his absent gaze.

With a disinterested swig of his shochu, he let his eye track the path of the fly. Even with his sharringan covered Kakashi’s eyes were sharper than most and he had immediately been drawn to the bug that hadn’t once alighted the sticky countertop. Even stranger was the way it listed slightly to the left as it bumbled through the air in an astonishingly disarming way. Never before had he come across an insect that one could describe as charming. In his expert opinion, it was highly suspicious.

Keeping his stare cautiously blank he pondered his options. While he could kill the bug and quickly squash any dastardly plot it was involved in, even a genin knew that a spy was best used - monitored or captured or turn -

_Huh._

Kakashi blinked slowly at the body of the fly twitching on the bar before him. He glanced up to see the bartender give him a sheepish smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. With summer on the way it’s getting damn near impossible to keep the buggers out,” he said flinging the rag turned insect-murder-weapon back over his shoulder. Kakashi chose not to respond instead leaning back over the stricken bug for closer inspection. _Huh. Just a fly._

He chugged the remainder of his cup and poured himself another. Really if he was starting to find flies charming enough to warrant suspicion, he should probably start paying attention to the conversation happening around him. But this ream, hardly more than a cobbled together group of available ninja, weren’t exactly interesting.

He had spent much of the mission lamenting the absence of Genma, Anko, hell even Gai. They’d all come up together and had developed an easy chemistry that could only be forged though years of fighting alongside each other’s eccentricities. But it seemed that many of his comrades had begun to slow down. They were seeking out their soulmates, starting families or finding safer, more stable jobs within the walls of the village. And this upcoming generation of equally dedicated shinobi, could only be adequately defined as milquetoast.

They didn’t even try to fight Kakashi when he skipped out on the bill. They were _honoured_ for the chance to buy the legendary Copy-Nin a drink. Not exactly the Will of Fire Kakashi had grown used to.

It was in the middle of his musings, on the verge of a rather dramatic sigh, that he noticed it. A bitter flavour hiding just beneath his smooth shochu. He smirked beneath his mask. His night was finally getting interesting.

He carefully swirled the drink around his mouth, searching for any familiar notes or numbing sensations. There weren’t many toxins Kakashi hadn’t developed some immunity to and even fewer he hadn’t sampled but this was different. It was subtle and quickly fading.

Searching out the foreign agent he took another small sip but found no trace of it. Perhaps his senses had been confused by the alcohol, or perhaps he had conjured it up out of boredom. Whatever the explanation, he must have imagined it.

From his perch on the barstool he surreptitiously looked around the room. Not many were bold enough to attempt to assassinate a ninja of such standing and those who were generally weren’t stupid enough to attempt it within their village. Still he searched but was greeted only by familiar faces. He was fairly certain that he hadn’t done anything particularly annoying to them recently, at least no more than usual.

Besides, the bar was cosy, warm and well lit, not an inch of it could be described as dank and if Kakashi had learned anything throughout his illustrious career, it was that poisoners liked to lurk nearby in dank corners. He swallowed the liquid in his mouth along with the disappointment that there weren’t any cloaked figures hiding in the shadows, evilly rubbing their hands together.

Then the taste returned. Barely a whisper at the back of his throat, it evaded direct identification instead mixing with the alcohol to produce a chemical aftertaste. Not wanting to get his hopes up for them to only be dashed, he dismissed it.

His slightly addled mind helpfully suggested that maybe he had been brooding too much. After all, broody people were notorious for describing their food as ash as the very air around them turned sour.

He took another sip and grimaced as the tainted flavour ebbed and flowed across his tongue. If his moodiness was the cause he really was going to have to start talking to his boring, boring team. He quite enjoyed the occasional drink and would hate to ruin a career long indulgence with something as trivial as loneliness.

He briefly wondered if raising a toast to Konoha’s resident poison experts after sulkily drinking next to them all evening would be counterproductive to bonding.

Then in a rush the bitterness became overwhelming, curling his tongue and straightening his back. He froze, the only visible movement his twitching eye as his awareness narrowed to the assault on his senses. The smoky smell of the bar, the textured grain of the porcelain beneath his fingers, the white noise of the other patrons all faded away to nothing in the presence of his singular need. _Out!_

His senses returned one by one and Kakashi slowly discovered that he was no longer sitting up. He was hunched awkwardly over his cup, tongue hanging limply against the cloth of his mask, that was slowly dribbling the alcohol that had pooled there.

Ridiculously, an image of his ninken trying to drink through a tarp crossed his mind, causing Kakashi to question which deity he had pissed off to warrant such embarrassment.

Oh. _Oh_. He wasn’t being poised.

He had a soulmate.

This clearly called for another drink.

Kakashi had never considered that he might have a soulmate. Even before he had turned thirty, the generally accepted cosmic cut off point, it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Since the death of his father he had operated as a tool of Konoha, his status as an operative often overshadowing his status as an individual. In the face of duty his own emotional turmoil became small and trivial, easy to process.

Over the years he had discovered teammates, friends even, but his own wants and needs off the battlefield always seemed abstract and having people that were precious to him still hadn’t given him reason to shape them into something more tangible. He was comfortable in his ways but his mindset, he knew, wasn’t particularly well suited to long term relationships.

But now, apparently, he had one.

Kakashi decided to ponder this turn of events over a sake. Hopefully it would be a less offensive pairing to whatever snack his other half ostensibly preferred, or it would get him drunk enough not to notice faster. He ordered, and then quickly re-ordered specifying the most expensive sake available. He might as well try to make a good first impression.

He settled back into his seat any pretence of drinking with his team abandoned. He gingerly lapped at the new beverage and happily settled back on his stool. It was much better the combination far less acrid.

He found his reprieve to be short lived, however, when his partner switched food. Kakashi stalled. He had absolutely no idea what they were eating but after the painfully flavourful experience that he just went through this was almost excruciatingly bland. It should have been a relief, but instead it felt like sensory starvation. His tongue felt thick and heavy and unable to grasp the alcohol that seemed to be leeching into some imaginary food. It left him swallowing around nothing and dripping more alcohol from his mask.

Eager to not repeat the experience, he asked the bartender for a scotch. Heavy with spice and burning with alcohol, Kakashi knew it would cut through the blandness of his palette and overcome any return of the earlier bitterness. He hadn’t, however, prepared for his unseen partner to make another change of their own – this time to something sweet.

As a general rule Kakashi was not a fan of sweets. They were too much for his overdeveloped senses, their scent cloyed around his nostrils and their taste stuck in the back of his throat long after they were gone. They were also regularly embarrassing shades of pink. When added to his favourite scotch, however, they were far worse.

He snorted in surprise as the unnaturally enhanced sugar overcame the darker notes of the drink, his teeth aching with alcohol and acid and artificial sweetness. He couldn’t escape the flavour, nor the humiliating little hiccup that followed as his throat tried to compensate for his discomfort.

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and gave an apologetic eye crease to the entire room, who were now looking at him in a way that reminded him of his genin team when an eraser had come crashing down on his head. That’s when it hit him.

_They were messing with him._ While he hadn’t been expecting a soulmate, he certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

In fact, as much as he had heard about soulmates, he had never heard of anyone using their connection quite like this. Sure, he had been mostly pretending to listen to Iruka’s rambling about hearing the love of his life long before he saw her. And okay, maybe he had deliberately ignored Guy’s tear-soaked speech about feeling a punch dealt to his student and realising that he had succeeded as a mentor. And he really couldn’t deny reading Icha-Icha instead of listening to the speeches given at the last wedding he had guarded, how could he, when Tsunade wouldn’t stop bringing it up during his mission briefings.

But even Kakashi knew that it was seen as a sacred bond. Respected amongst civilians and shinobi alike, even as most let their connection fade quietly over time in the face of greater responsibilities. The links between their very essences were emphatically not used to harass one another.

But that was when it was all a strange distant fairy tale, not destined for Kakashi. But now it was real. _They_ were real. And their presence wasn’t romantic or sweet or comforting.

He smirked beneath his still wet mask. _This was so much better_.

He signalled the bartender and ordered an espresso martini, curious to see what his partner would pair with it.

The next day as the afternoon light filtered through the open bathroom door warming the tiles beneath his knees Kakashi rethought his enthusiasm. Perhaps he had overdone it a little, he conceded as he hunched over the toilet the third time. It had been worth it though. He hadn’t had that much fun in what felt like years.

He still had his reservations. He wasn’t exactly prepared for a soulmate and as capable as he was at being a ninja, he wasn’t sure that he was capable of being one. He hadn’t been searching out a connection, and he wouldn’t be searching for whoever was on the other end of it.

But in the face of this whole strange, messy, surreal situation, Kakashi was sure of one thing. If his competitor had enjoyed mint before this afternoon, they sure as hell wouldn’t like it now. He could work with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter to introduce our other protagonist. Stick around for the next chapter when the story really kicks off.
> 
> People I love:  
> 1\. The dorks in this story  
> 2\. The dorks reading this  
> 3\. No, seriously though, the response to this story has warmed my heart and been a fantastic introduction to this new fandom for me. A huge thanks to everyone who was kind enough to leave comments and kudos, you absolutely made my week <3  
> 4\. The fly - truly my self insert

**Author's Note:**

> Good artists borrow, great artists steal and the best artists credit the amazing talented people who inspired them. So please consider out Soldier Pills and Chocolate Ice Cream by hyperenui.
> 
> This work is basically one big ol' love letter to TipsyRaconteur, and the rest of the amazingly talented KakaSaku writers whose work has kept me sane the last couple of weeks. Why I decided it would be easier to start writing an original fanfic rather than start leaving reviews beats me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my first sashay into Naruto fan fiction. Thanks lovelies!


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